The Game's a Fowl
by Patti and Marg
Summary: We took up the challenge from Kit. Standard HH characters aren't ours, the rest are up for grabs! Thanksgiving 1943, Stalag 13.


The Game's a Fowl

November 1943.  The World is still at war.  Nowhere on Earth is untouched by the tragedy, that is, this War.  Days come and days go.  Time passes slowly.  Battles are won and lost.  The loss of life continues unabated.  But as the Holiday Season approaches, some soldiers try to take solace in thoughts of home and family.  But no real solace can be achieved, for those so very far from home.

Hammelburg, Germany, Stalag 13, November 17, 1943, 1630 Hours 

Colonel Robert Hogan, Senior Prisoner of War Officer of Stalag 13 headed across the prison compound to see Kommandant Wilhelm Klink.  He turned the collar of his leather jacket up as a chilly wind whistled past him.  Winter was coming.  Again.  _Oh wonderful! There was nothing colder than a German Winter.  Well, perhaps the winters in Stalingrad are a bit chillier.  Everyone has been working overtime trying to expand our underground sabotage and espionage operation. As well as trying to keep up with the movement of Allied servicemen back to London. These past few months have been incredibly hectic.  My civilian network has also grown enormously. I finally am beginning to believe that we **can** make a difference in this war. But there comes a time when I have to give the guys a break.  Right now, the tunnels are free of Allied servicemen and tomorrow is Thanksgiving, an American holiday, but a holiday nonetheless.  I hope that I can get Klink to agree to this little respite, as we all need a break._

"Kommandant," Hogan began as he entered Klink's office around 4:30 in the afternoon.  "I would like to make a request."

"What is it this time, Hogan?"  Klink replied with a sigh.  The day was almost over, and up till this moment he had not had to deal with Hogan once today.  It had been a pleasant day for once.

"Well it's like this, sir."  Hogan said, sitting in the chair in front of Klink's desk.  "I'd like to request that you make tomorrow a day of rest for the entire camp."

"Why?  So you and your men can concentrate on digging tunnels?"  Klink asked sarcastically.

"No sir.  We've got that all done.  We're working on a wine cellar now."  Hogan replied with a grin. 

"Hogan!"  Klink thumped his desk in warning.

"Sorry sir."  Hogan replied contritely.  "I get carried away sometimes."

"What do you want Hogan?"  Klink asked, frustrated.

"Oh, just this sir.  Tomorrow is Thanksgiving."  Hogan said.  "I was just hoping that you would allow us to celebrate it in a small way."

"Thanksgiving is an American Holiday."  Klink protested.  "Not all of your men are Americans."

"That's true, sir.  But, the men could all use a break and if we can coincide it with a holiday, any holiday, so much the better.  The men would appreciate it, sir."  Hogan replied.

"I have never understood your Thanksgiving Holiday."  Klink said shaking his head.  "It seems silly to proclaim a holiday just to eat too much."

"Sir!  Thanksgiving isn't about eating too much.  It's about families.  It's a day to give thanks for the blessings of the past year.  Didn't you know, that the men in this camp are thankful that you, the Iron Eagle well-known for his compassion, are their Camp Kommandant?  We're all very proud of that fact, sir."  Hogan explained.

"Me?  They're thankful for me?"  Klink asked shocked.

"Yes sir.  More than you will ever know."  Hogan agreed solemnly.

"Alright, Colonel Hogan.  You have your day of rest.  And to show that I am not totally heartless, everyman will receive an extra slice of white bread tomorrow."  Klink agreed with a smile.

"Thank you sir.  That will make this Thanksgiving one to be remembered."  Hogan said, standing and saluting.

Stalag 13, Colonel Hogan's Quarters, November 18, 1943, 1030 Hours 

_November 18, 1943_

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_Today is Thanksgiving.  My second in this place.  I have convinced the Camp Kommandant to give my men the day off, so there are no work details today.  Many of the men are spending the day as I am, writing home. This afternoon, there will be a football game, the camp football championship game. Winter's here are a little rough, so our Super Bowl is in November. Other than that it's just like Thanksgiving at home.  Turkey and Football.  Nothing could be finer._

_I hope that everyone there is well, Sue, Ed, the Baby and of course, both of you.  I know Mom, that you will be cooking way too much food and are expecting the whole Hogan clan to descend upon the house today at four.  Please tell everyone that I'm fine. I do wish that I could be there with you, on this day especially. But circumstances have continued to conspire against us in that regard. Let's just hope this war will end soon._

_I've heard from both Joe and John a couple of times.  I'm glad that they're both doing well.  I hope that Joe will make it home for the holidays this year.  He's only in Washington, DC.  That way at least you have one of us Hogan boys home with you._

_There is not much to tell you about me.  Like I've said many times, nothing much happens here. The same routine, day in and day out. The football game will be a nice diversion. My staff here, I know I've spoken of them to you, are terrific.  I don't know what I'd do without them. The four of them work tirelessly in keeping up morale here.  Louis LeBeau is at this moment, preparing a 'feast' for tonight in honor of the holiday. All the men are looking forward to it.  So as you can see, things here remain pretty quiet._

_I know you hate when I say this, but I'm still not happy being sidelined from this war. I hate sitting on my butt, doing nothing. But, I guess, I just have to face that there isn't much I can do.  _

_Love Always,_

Rob 

Hogan looked up from his desk and stared at the wall. _Liar. You have perfected the art of manipulation. Leaving out the truth is becoming second nature.  I don't really know if that is a good thing or a bad thing._  He sighed and folded the letter into its envelope.  He'd drop it into the mail before noon roll call.  The football game will start at 1300 hours. After the game, he had a mission briefing with Kinch and Newkirk.  Tonight, at midnight, they were going to blow up the munitions dump six miles from Camp. _Not quite in holiday spirit. Or just maybe, the Fourth of July will be coming a little early this year._

The End 


End file.
